


Some Gays Can Actually Do Math

by cx_shhhh



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Calculus, Community: makinghugospin, Fluff, Genius Grantaire, Grantaire and Courfeyrac are very good friends, I'm not kidding, Like he claims to be bad at math in the brick but I'm just throwing all that away, M/M, he's actually ridiculously smart in this, pure unabashed fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:56:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cx_shhhh/pseuds/cx_shhhh
Summary: Enjolras is a tutor, and Grantaire acts dumb to spend more time with him.
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 151





	Some Gays Can Actually Do Math

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspiration](https://pairing-prompts.tumblr.com/post/184119005942/person-a-is-a-tutor-and-person-b-is-acting-dumb-to)  
> 

“R. _Grantaaaaire._ ”

Grantaire wishes he could say he’s sitting in his room, minding his own business. However, he’s distracted by Courfeyrac constantly bothering him every minute about math homework. It’s like the boy’s brain is full of gossip instead of the information teachers provide them with. Oh wait. Except that’s exactly what Courfeyrac does in calculus every day. And unfortunately, Grantaire has to deal with all of that along with maintaining his perfect 100 in that class.

“Grantaire, are you even listening to meeee?” Courfeyrac prods Grantaire’s arm with his glittery mechanical pencil. “Can you help me with question five?”

Grantaire sighs in defeat, “Yeah sure. But I’m absolute shit at explaining things. You should get a tutor instead.”

At that, Courfeyrac seems to brighten up almost immediately. “You are an absolute genius, Grantaire! Ooh, I think I know exactly who to ask! Do you think ‘Ferre would be willing to help me?”

Grantaire hums and turns back to his doodle of a kitten… until he’s interrupted again by a whine. “I can’t go alone, though. I’ll be soooo lonely. R, you should accompany me whenever I go.”

Distracted by perfecting the kitten’s eyes, Grantaire doesn’t pay as much attention as he should have before agreeing to whatever Courfeyrac had just said. In fact, he doesn’t question it at all and goes about, shading in the kitten’s fur.

This comes back to bite Grantaire in the ass the next day when Courfeyrac drags him by the elbow to their school’s library. “W-wait, Courf! What are you doing?”

  
“You agreed to coming with me yesterday, remember?”

Grantaire gapes and digs his heels in. “What, when? And why do I need calculus tutoring?”

“Well, R, you are one of my best friends, so you should spend more time with me.”

  
  
That’s met with an eye roll. “We all know you’re going to be too busy ogling Combeferre’s butt while he explains derivatives to actually pay attention. And now you’re forcing me to essentially third wheel? Cruel, Courf, real cruel.”

Courfeyrac’s eyes widen. “Oh, did I not mention this? You’re not gonna be in the same room as ‘Ferre and I. He got one of his friends from Musain Academy to ‘tutor’ you.”

“Need I remind you what a waste of time and effort this is?”

  
  
Courfeyrac smiles sweetly and bats his eyelashes. “Need I remind you that you agreed, being the amazing person you are, Grantaire?”

Grantaire huffs and crosses his arms. “Fine. But only for a week. Then you’d better never ask me to help with math ever again.”

At that point, the two of them had finally reached the library. Courfeyrac spots Combeferre first and skips over to him, piling various textbooks and worksheets onto the table. Someone clears their voice behind Grantaire, causing him to whip around. If Grantaire hadn’t gotten whiplash from turning around so quickly, he’s definitely out of breath upon gazing up at probably the most gorgeous man, boy, whatever, to actually exist. He has to physically tear himself away from all that shiny hair and blue eyes so deep, Grantaire would be drowning in its depths if he could. The guy sticks a hand out, all long fingers and calluses like he grips a pencil too tightly, and opens his mouth. “Hello. I’m Enjolras and I suppose I’ll be tutoring you?”

Grantaire takes the hand and tries very hard not to start stroking it or anything. “Grantaire. Or, uh, R.”

Enjolras smiles and Grantaire feels his breath whoosh out of his lungs in a second. “So, R, calculus. Let’s get started?”

Grantaire smiles tentatively and peeks up at Enjolras shyly through his eyelashes. “R-right. Calculus. Um, I’m not exactly sure what I need help on, so maybe you could, um, start from the beginning.”

Enjolras sits down and runs a hand through his hair, causing a few curls to poof up. To Grantaire’s pleasure and dismay, a pair of black glasses are taken out of a case, and Grantaire can feel Enjolras’s eyes stare into his soul when he puts them on. Suddenly, Enjolras is transformed from angelically beautiful to sexy nerd with the glasses and button-down shirt. It’s all a bit unnerving, so when he flips to the first chapter in the textbook, Grantaire is very much relieved. “Alright. Limits. These should be pretty easy.”

After an hour, Grantaire feels the need to doze off, but Enjolras’s expressive voice keeps him captivated. If he zoned out of the actual content, it’s impossible to blame Grantaire when he’s paying so much attention to Enjolras himself. A sheet of paper is placed in front of him with thirty questions. Grantaire watches, captivated, as Enjolras pushes his glasses up and announces, “Okay. Assuming you know what’s going on, just complete these problems.”

Grantaire takes his sweet time jotting down each number, purposefully slowly. As he finishes up, he looks at Enjolras to see him staring back at him with a curious expression on his face. “Er, I’m done?”

Enjolras takes the paper back and quickly scans it, looking pleasantly surprised when he sees that Grantaire made no errors. Grantaire winces, for fear of giving himself away. Enjolras offhandedly remarks, “Great. I guess you’re off to a good start.”

Grantaire shrugs, panicking a little, “Now, I wonder why I can’t get these scores at school?”

That receives a look that makes Grantaire go weak in the knees. “Peer pressure, probably. By the way, not to be weird or anything, but you look really familiar. Like, have I seen you anywhere?”

Grantaire, not really caring how he appears in front of this blonde deity anymore, snorts and says, “Well, I’m sure you would definitely remember a face like mine. Strangely assembled features and all. I’ve been at Corinthe for all of high school so far.”

Enjolras doesn’t acknowledge that comment with any response, so Grantaire awkwardly takes that as a cue to get up and try to find Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac, who happens to be about zero inches away from Combeferre, that is, sitting in his lap. Grantaire coughs loudly and turns away to give them their privacy. A little miffed about not getting to let Courfeyrac know that perhaps, he would like to come to tutoring sessions for maybe the rest of his life, Grantaire plops down into his chair. If Courfeyrac continues to struggle in calculus, well, Grantaire would be more than happy to accompany him to the library every afternoon.

Almost too quickly, another hour of calculus “tutoring” passes with Grantaire paying more attention to Enjolras’s high cheekbones and sharp jawline than the actual content coming out of his mouth. Grantaire shoots up from his chair faster than he’d really like, especially in front of Enjolras. “Uh, thanks for these two hours, I’ve really learned a lot, you’re really good at teaching, but I need to find Courfeyrac before he decides to stick his tongue any further down your friend’s throat!”

Enjolras laughs, to Grantaire’s great astonishment, and at the risk of Grantaire’s blood pressure, lays a hand gently on his shoulder. “I should be thanking you. I don’t think anybody else has picked up an entire chapter of calculus as quickly as you. Now, are you sure we haven’t met before? You really remind me of someone, but I can’t put my finger on exactly who.”

Grantaire, for fear of being discovered, shrugs and pretty much bolts from the library, grabbing Courfeyrac’s collar on his way out. “R! How was your session?”

“Difficult. It’s a lot harder making myself seem more incompetent at math than you’d think.”

Courfeyrac’s eyes widen comically, and his face splits into a large grin. “No way.”

Grantaire sniffs, “Well, yeah. If you weren’t so focused on not leaving any room for Jesus between you and ‘Ferre, you would have known that I intend to come with every day until you no longer suck at math.”

“Okay, rude. But Enjojo really is a fine specimen, isn’t he?”

Grantaire buries his head into his hands and sighs, “His hair is so ridiculous, and his eyes… his eyes! And when he turned around, oh, I really wanted to be that pair of skinny jeans he was wearing.”

“Whoa, R! Tone down the lustfest! Damn, this is quality entertainment.”

“I wish I didn’t have to act like a complete dumbass in front of Enjolras. He deserves better than to have me wasting his time.”

Grantaire’s startled when Courfeyrac shakes his shoulders, hard. “Stop! If Enjolras thinks you’re a waste of time, he’s definitely a waste of time. You are smart, brilliant, talented, and one of the best people to ever live in this disappointing world.”

Grantaire almost cries as he throws his arms around Courfeyrac in a tight hug. “I’ll go to every tutoring session with you and help you with calculus because hell knows, you probably aren’t learning much with Combeferre so close in your vicinity.”

“Love you too, R. We all know you just want to come because Enjolras is there. And I only made arrangements for a week anyway.”

For the rest of the week, Grantaire keeps his promise. Every session is filled with Grantaire listening very closely to what Enjolras says. He knows the content already, but Enjolras explains it so thoroughly and carefully that Grantaire can’t help but appreciate him. Every day, Grantaire tries so hard to appear dumber than he actually is, heart beating faster every time Enjolras fixes his steely gaze on him and praises him genuinely. On the very last day, Enjolras takes back Grantaire’s completed worksheet. “Great job, as usual,” he remarks, chair tipping back as he looks it over. “It’s almost as if I didn’t help at all.”

Grantaire looks up sharply and stutters, “D-don’t be ridiculous. You’re the one who taught me all of this.”

Enjolras hums offhandedly and adjusts his glasses, “Hmm. Well, I have one final thing for you. Another worksheet, except I’ll be competing against you.”

“What? Well that isn’t exactly fair, right? You’re so much better at math than me.”

Enjolras smirks, doing evil things to Grantaire’s already pounding heart. “You’re very smart, Grantaire. I don’t think it should be a problem. Oh, and what about a bet? Whoever is the fastest and the most accurate gets to ask one thing of the other.”

Grantaire glances at Enjolras’s face. His expression is stoic once more, but something about it shows that he knows something. “Fine.”

“Don’t think I’ll go easy one you. I was almost on the Math Olympiad team last year.”

That definitely proves Enjolras is more than capable of all sorts of math and nerdy stuff. However, Grantaire grows cold because he tried out too and actually made it onto the team. “Darn. I’d better try harder.”

Enjolras doesn’t say anything else and sets the timer for another thirty questions. It’s significantly more difficult than what Enjolras had given him in the past, so Grantaire bites his lip, not exactly sure how to approach this issue, before he decides, fuck it, and speeds up. He drops his pencil right after the last number is scratched onto the paper. Grantaire looks up, half in fear and half in curiosity. Enjolras is grinning down at him when he comments, “Would you look at that? It seems like the Olympian reigns again.”

“Shit.”

Enjolras simply laughs, the most beautiful sound Grantaire has ever heard. “So, what’s your request?”

Grantaire thinks frantically, winning the bet the last thing on his mind. “How long have you known?”

“Is that what you want for winning? Such a trivial thing.”

If Grantaire had known Enjolras was this frustrating, he wouldn’t have gone and developed such a huge crush on him. He sighs in defeat, ironically, “Yeah. Just answer the damn question. I swear to all the math gods, if Courfeyrac told you...”

Enjolras smiles at him, a little fondly. “No. He’s a very good friend and would never betray anybody’s trust like that. Let’s see. After the first day, I knew you looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure until I got home. After the tryouts, I saw the results posted back at Musain and was incredibly angry that I hadn’t made it after studying so hard.”

Grantaire gulps, a little afraid after hearing that he was basically on Enjolras’s hit-list. He stands up and makes to walk away. “Okay. I get it. You hate my guts. My name is probably somewhere on a dartboard next to, like, Napoleon. Sorry for wasting time that you could have spent, I don’t know, studying for this year’s Olympiad.”

Quick as an arrow, Enjolras’s hand shoots out and grabs Grantaire’s wrist. “Wait. Don’t leave. Napoleon is on a dartboard, but you are definitely not. Please, let me finish.”

Because Grantaire can’t resist this beautiful person, and because he’s a bit of a masochist like that, he stays to witness Enjolras’s potential anger. “Um, don’t hurt me.”

“What? Why would I hurt you? I didn’t recognize you at first because I never expected you of all people to walk into the library, asking for tutoring sessions. I was a bit angry at first, thinking you were mocking me or something, pretending to praise my horrible teaching when I was basically repeating everything you already knew!”

“You are really good at explaining concepts, Enjolras. None of that praise was empty.”

“Thanks. It was a little amusing to see you force yourself to slow down or act confused about a topic. That was pretty cute, actually.”  
  


Grantaire blushes deeply and mumbles, “Don’t tease me, please. Now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself, can I leave?”

Enjolras stands up to get Grantaire’s attention once more. “You can if you want. But I was hoping to get to know you more. Simple things like why did you put so much effort into acting stupid? And are you like a genius at other subjects too? Why do you doodle kittens in the margins of your worksheets? Maybe you could give me your number too.”

Grantaire’s brain whirs, and he forces himself not to read too deeply into Enjolras’s words. He swallows painfully and chooses his next words carefully. “If I didn’t know any better, it would seem as if you were flirting with me. Which I know doesn’t happen at all. You can’t even stand my company for a few hours each day. I’d be insufferable after a while.”

Enjolras’s hand travels from Grantaire’s wrist to his palm. “No, Grantaire. You constantly challenging everything I do makes you all the more attractive. At Musain Academy, there’s no one who would even dare approach me and express their own opinions.”

“Still, that doesn’t mean you’ll want me to stick around.”

Enjolras fixes Grantaire with his blue gaze and starts gently massaging his hand. “If you’re willing to give me… it a chance, I’d be more than willing.”

Grantaire’s brain is promptly turned to mush, both at Enjolras’s ministrations and because he never expected Enjolras of all people to show an interest. “Okay. I really, really like you, by the way. But I don’t know why you continued to put up with my antics when you knew after the first day.”

Enjolras snorts, which really shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. “I was curious to see how this would turn out, and I don’t know what kind of messed up mirror you’ve been using, but you are very nice to look at. I thought my attraction was very obvious.”

“Seriously? Obvious? How exactly?” Grantaire shakes his head confused. A corner of Enjolras’s mouth lifts. “I let you win, of course. I wasn’t sure if you’d finally drop the act, so I worked slower than usual.”

Grantaire’s mouth transforms into an “o”. He’s hyper aware of Enjolras’s fingers curled around his hand and the sheer proximity of this lovely being. Grantaire is unsure of what’s going to happen next, so he cocks his head to the side. “Kittens are cute.”

Enjolras looks a bit lost, so Grantaire clarifies, “You asked me why I doodle kittens everywhere. They’re cute.”

“Fuck. If I can’t kiss you right this second, I might actually die.” Enjolras squeezes Grantaire’s hand, clearly waiting for permission or consent or something equally unnecessary because Grantaire just wants to be kissed by Enjolras so badly. He nods and in that moment, it’s just Enjolras and Grantaire, wrapped up in each other, in the corner of a mostly deserted library.

“Holy mother of-” Grantaire and Enjolras jump apart, knocking heads in the process. Grantaire rubs a hand against his forehead and mutters, “Owww. Courfeyrac, what the heck.”

Courfeyrac’s face appears with a gleeful expression. “Aren’t you two looking quite cozy?”

Enjolras is the first to come back to his senses. The epitome of nonchalance, he greets them with an even tone. “Courf, ‘Ferre, I hope your tutoring session has been going well.”

Courfeyrac points an accusing finger at Enjolras’s face. “Ha! Don’t think you can deter me like that, Angelbutt. I want to know your intentions with the adorable R. He deserves nothing but the best, and I will shove a calculator or something just as nerdy up your ass if he comes home in tears.”

Grantaire doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he buries his flushed face in his hands and mutters, _“Angelbutt… oh my God.”_

Enjolras pulls Grantaire into a hug, smothering his face with his red hoodie, and replies, “If Grantaire is upset, ever, I give you permission to do exactly that, calculus textbook and everything.”

Grantaire physically has to tear himself away from Enjolras’s warmth and soft hoodie. “Ooookay. Great, so can we go now? Please?”

Enjolras leans down and presses a tiny kiss to Grantaire’s nose, sweeping all their materials back into a bag. “Yeah. Late nights are the best nights for coffee, anyway.”

Grantaire grins unabashedly and kisses Enjolras again, simply because he can. He adds, “And study dates.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s my [Tumblr](http://cx-shhhh.tumblr.com/)...  
> I post a lot of Les Mis stuff, so perhaps something will grab your interest?


End file.
